


Dinner and a Movie

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-10
Updated: 2003-09-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our two charming university professors have their first proper date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner and a Movie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splix/gifts), [Laura_McEwan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_McEwan/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

Quinn pulled into the parking lot of Ian's building at five of seven for their date. Since the professors had been back from the conference for two days, they'd had a chance to unpack and make plans.

Two knocks, and Ian was at the door, stepping aside so Quinn could enter his apartment. The living room was immaculately clean and was furnished with teak bookshelves, a chocolate-brown leather sofa with a television across from it, an oversized teak desk covered with folders and a laptop. A model of the Millennium Falcon swooped over the books on the top shelf of one of the bookcases. Quinn immediately felt comfortable here, much as he had in Ian's presence on the train. 

Quinn noticed that Ian was barefoot, and kicked off his own shoes to protect the green carpet. He ran his hands through his hair, nervous tension coursing through him. This was the first time Quinn had been on Ian's home territory. It reminded him that as little as four days ago, Ian had been happily immersed in a life without him. Contrary to romantic fiction, it was hard to merge two adult paths, though Quinn was determined that they'd do so.

Ian, true to his word, had sent his resume to Luke the day he'd returned home. Since it was late May, there were still months of interviews, vita examination, and committee meetings ahead of him. He'd have to assemble his published papers as well. Luckily for his cause, Ian had graduated summa cum laude from Jedai University, earning his Master's at Bail and doctorate from Georgeton. If he were hired, he'd start teaching at Luke in January.

Shaking himself from his worries over their future, Quinn looked into Ian's eyes and returned his welcoming smile. 

"So, what do you think?" Ian waved his arm at the room.

"Very nice," Quinn said, closing the distance between them with a kiss.

A bottle pressed into Ian's stomach when they embraced, but he decided not to make the obvious quip. He allowed himself a chuckle, then asked, "Do you realize this is our first proper date, Quinn?"

"I certainly do." Quinn handed Ian the wine he'd been carrying. 

"This is the same vintage we drank at Roma," Ian exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. "You romantic rogue!"

"I try, lad, I try," Quinn said, his eyes catching the sparkle from Ian's own. He leaned in for another kiss. 

"Would you like the grand tour?" 

"Of course." At that, Quinn let himself be pulled from room to room of Ian's apartment: the tidy kitchen, too small for a table, with only two items seemingly used: a white microwave with blue display and an expensive-looking cappuccino maker; a tiny dining area with a tiled table and two chairs; the bedroom, filled with more teak furniture surrounding a double bed; the bathroom, with sky blue matting, towels to match, and a forest scene on the shower curtain.

It was all pleasing to Quinn: uncluttered and comfortable. He was already envisioning the blending of their households. Quinn's decor ran to steel and plastic, so Ian's hardwood was clearly a keeper. However, Quinn rather thought that Ian would prefer his king-sized bed to the small one on display. Size does matter, especially when trying to accomodate a 6'4" frame to one's environment. 

"You look like you're planning the move." Ian's amused voice interrupted Quinn's reverie.

"I was considering it," Quinn admitted.

"Well, how about considering dinner?" a flippant Ian suggested. "You haven't even told me where we're going yet. Am I dressed for it?" Ian made a show of posing for Quinn, presenting him with a view from all sides.

He was wearing a brown corduroy jacket with suede elbow patches over khaki slacks, and each side looked better than the last to Quinn. "You certainly are, lad," he said, an appreciative glint in his eye. "I've made reservations at Larson's in Mossley." He glanced at his watch. "We'd best go now."

Comfortably ensconced in Quinn's THX Turbo, with Pachebel's Canon as soothing background music, they drove to the restaurant. 

"I've missed you," Quinn said, referring to the two nights they'd spent alone while they readied their Tolkien papers for publication, and caught up on their other work.

"Me too." The time Ian usually set aside for contemplation had been devoted to thoughts of their future together; somehow Ian had always had a gift for differentiating probability from possibility, and judged his course of action accordingly. It was one of the reasons that he'd attained his doctorate at such a young age. 

Ian reached over and patted Quinn's thigh. "I used to enjoy being alone; my daily routine has always allowed for it. Now I just keep thinking of you," Ian said matter-of-factly. 

Quinn had reacted in the same way to their temporary separation. Two days of intense courtship followed by a return to their previous reality had left him aching to be with Ian again. This feeling prompted Quinn to action. "I think we should stay together over the summer at one of our apartments. Why should we have to wait until your job comes through?"

This was a big step but, curiously enough, neither Ian nor Quinn felt daunted by it. It seemed a natural progression: the smiling young man on the train and his thoroughly charmed seatmate had become first colleagues, then friends who fell in love. 

Ian gave Quinn a look that would have melted Saruman's ice-bound heart, and said, "I've been hoping you would ask. My bag's been packed since Thursday night."

Quinn laughed. "Take a look in back, Ian. That's my duffel. I've left my pets at a neighbor's place. Why don't we stay at your home for the weekend at least, since I'm already here?"

"I'd love that, but let's sleep on the carpet. I don't mind the $200 they charged for breaking the springs on the dorm bed -- it was well worth it -- but I don't want to do an unintentional diving roll to the floor again." Ian chuckled softly. "I'd rather start there."

"Agreed." Ian's 'diving roll' comment reminded him of a question Quinn had intended to ask him. "Have you a background in acrobatics?"

"Yes, I was on my university's gymnastics squad."

Quinn privately thought that this explained a lot: Ian's comfort in his own skin, his graceful stalking walk, his consummate bedroom prowess. Lost in thoughts of Ian's sensuality, Quinn felt another pat on his thigh, this time a bit higher. "Hmmm?"

"I just asked what you're teaching next semester."

Quinn forcibly brought himself back to the here and now. "I've got a Wilde seminar with a maximum enrollment of ten and a course on the early English Romantic poets."

"Sounds lovely. Tell me about it."

Quinn could hear the faintest trace of envy in Ian's voice. He'd probably been teaching expository writing courses and English 101 at Ken State, the lot of assistant professors everywhere.

"Well, I plan to focus on Wilde's fairy tales, The Importance of Being Earnest, and Dorian Gray in the seminar. As for the Romantics, Coleridge and Wordsworth will be the meat of the class."

"Can I look forward to that in ten years? How do they distribute the advanced courses and seminars?"

Quinn chuckled at Ian's eagerness. "For the three years until you're up for Associate, they'll have you teaching intro classes, just as you've probably done already." At Ian's nod, he continued, "Then you'll have a little more flexibility." Not that you need it, lad, Quinn thought cheekily. 

Engrossed in their discussion, Quinn was pleasantly surprised to reach the restaurant well ahead of schedule. Larson's was a sprawling building on a huge expanse of land in the New Jersey countryside. They had a reputation for good food and entertainment, and on this Saturday night it was hopping. Quinn was thankful that he'd made reservations; it looked to be a two hour wait for tables.

It was 8 pm and the music didn't start until 9. Quinn had timed it perfectly so that they'd be able to enjoy their conversation and food first, then listen to the Espa string quartet.

Cream linen tablecloths and napkins, candles and recessed lighting, waiters in suits, a wine steward: Larson's was definitely a fine dining establishment, suitable for an enchanting first date. 

By unspoken agreement, the men didn't discuss Tolkien or other academic subjects any further that evening; just as the restaurant was more elaborate than the informal places they'd frequented during the conference, so their conversation stayed personal rather than professional. The whole night had a different feel than their time in Windover: festive and seductive.

They ordered the Anchorhead sauvignon blanc, and settled back to enjoy their meal. The first course was a fruit cup with a small scoop of lime sorbet perched atop it. Ian smiled because it brought back memories of his mother serving the same thing to guests when he'd been a small boy. He shared this bit of his past with Quinn, who looked intrigued. They never tired of trading childhood stories; it was one of the things that allowed them to get to know each other so quickly.

"My mother would save the fruit for dessert. She'd make baked apples or serve blueberries with a little powdered sugar." Quinn unknowingly licked his bottom lip.

"Sounds delicious too. We've got to ask to see the dessert menu here; they must have some elaborate treats."

The next course arrived: spinach soup crusted with fontina cheese, precipitating another memory for them to discuss, this time from Quinn. His father hadn't liked vegetables very much, so his mother would coat them with melted cheese and, sure enough, his dad would finish them every time. "I thought it was funny that even adults had to be coaxed into eating what was good for them."

Ian laughed. "No one could ever convince me to like lima beans; even to this day I can't stand them."

"Don't worry, lad. They're easily avoided. I don't think I've had one in the past twenty years."

"Well, that's all right then," said a playfully relieved Ian, as he pretended to wipe sweat from his brow.

The classical quartet started up before their entrees arrived. They played an adaptation of Handel's Water Music that was the perfect accompaniment to their meal.

The men had each ordered lobster tails for dinner, preferring the easy access to the meat this way, rather than the cumbersome process of cracking the shell of a whole lobster. The latter was too much work for too little payoff, in their opinion.

The lobster was finely dusted with herbs and came with drawn butter for dipping. The health-conscious professors pushed the butter aside, and enjoyed the unadulterated sweet meat. As they ate, the men traded glances, each thinking that their date was ideal: the best company, the finest food, the utter ease they felt with one another already.

They decided to split dessert, each liking the idea of sharing food because of the intimacy involved. The men had a hard time deciding between apple strudel and key lime pie, but chose the pie when they found out it was topped with vanilla meringue.

Somehow, watching each other eat dessert was more stimulating than the rest of the meal. Perhaps it had to do with the decadence of it, the single plate with two forks, the creaminess of the pie; whatever it was brought home the intended effect of a night out and the air grew subtly charged between them.

Since Quinn had invited Ian here, he picked up the bill without fuss. It was just before ten, and the movie they had chosen started in half an hour. They arrived at the multiplex with ten minutes to spare. The theater had plush seats and the floors weren't sticky; it was already worth the travel time.

They'd only been there a minute when the trailers began; a few looked good enough for future dates. Then the theme music that they'd first heard as children started playing, and they were off to a galaxy far, far away.

The theater was dark enough for them to hold hands without concern. When Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan appeared onscreen in their mysterious Jedi cloaks, their grip tightened. Something about these two men enthralled Quinn and Ian. The lightsaber duels were splendid, the special effects grand; if the storyline and dialogue were a bit thin, they could readily forgive this.

When the movie was over, the men walked out of the theater still caught up in all they had seen. Living inside the movie, yet aware of their surroundings, they weren't quite ready to return to ordinary consciousness.

Ian steered Quinn to a frozen yogurt shop that he'd been to a few times before. It was all but empty because of the late hour. Although they were still somewhat chilled from the overly air-conditioned theater, it seemed like the perfect place to decompress after the film.

The college student behind the counter knew Ian from past visits, and told him which of his favorite flavors was available that day. Ian ordered cookies and cream, while Quinn chose chocolate cherry, and both had crushed pecans on top. 

Ian paid, remembering to put a dollar in the tip cup, and they sat down at a window seat in the corner, watching the movie-goers bustle in and out of the theater. The men ate their yogurt slowly as they discussed the film.

Quinn said, "Obi-Wan had me from the start. Remember when he said, "You were right about one thing, Master. The negotiations were short?" I just love that impish sense of humor after such a thrilling lightsaber battle. And what a smile."

"I heard you laughing -- I thought it was funny too." 

Quinn waved his yogurt spoon. "More than that, Ian; it sets just the right tone for their friendship. These are people who have lived and worked together for years; they're at ease with one another and the audience can sense that relaxation and familiarity."

Ian nodded thoughtfully. "The casting of Qui-Gon was a surprise, though. They were probably trying for the same dynamic that Luke and Old Ben had, you know, the eager student and his sage old mentor. What a miscalculation! Qui-Gon was handsome and compelling, clearly a man still in his prime."

"And Obi-Wan! Quite a combination there -- a serious-minded young Jedi with sensuality rolling off him in waves. A scholar with a swagger! I can see why some fans believe them to be lovers." 

"It's a pretty fantasy, Quinn. I was thinking about that when Obi-Wan saved Qui-Gon from Maul with his expert piloting. Talk about being swept off your feet, literally." Ian smiled mischievously into Quinn's eyes. 

"And what about the Master's proprietary hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder outside the Council chamber?" Quinn was starting to catch fire. "The two of them watching the sunset together -- very cozy and romantic." He had kissed Ian during this scene, love overwhelming him. It had seemed like an out-take from a different movie, one in which the two Jedi fell in love.

"Let's not forget that they'd lived together for twelve years, seven after Obi-Wan reached adulthood." Ian darted his spoon into Quinn's yogurt audaciously. "Plenty of opportunities there."

"Obi-Wan does look at Qui-Gon adoringly," Quinn said, thinking how lucky he was that Ian gazed at him in just the same way.

"The clincher to me was that touch on the cheek at the end. Qui-Gon said 'I love you' when no breath was left." Ian stared down at his dish pensively. 

"Yes, that was extremely moving. I don't know whether Qui-Gon is really gone, however. After all, he didn't discorporate. I can see all sorts of scenarios in which he survived, purposely unbeknownst to almost everyone. The most likely is Qui-Gon being saved by an outpouring of healing energy from Obi-Wan." Quinn felt a personal satisfaction in crafting a happy outcome for the two Jedi.

"I like that idea; it creates limitless possibilities for them to be together." Ian was warmed by Quinn's solution. 

They finished their yogurt and headed for Quinn's car. Ian rested on Quinn's shoulder on the way home, his weight a welcome sensation. Quinn's mind ran forward, and he knew that he'd never stop dating Ian: no matter how many anniversaries went by, they'd court each other throughout their lives.


End file.
